


Seven

by Amigara



Series: The Straying Prince Universe [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bullying, Childhood, Fantasy, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Muteness, Royalty, Trans Character, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 01:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8308387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amigara/pseuds/Amigara
Summary: At seven, the world changed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Seven themed side drabbles to The Stolen Prince.

Marett was told the story in two ways.

His mother's way, dreamy-eyed and loving. Laela was a pure girl, kind and gentle, and she quelled the rage of the Winter. She saved them all.

His father's way, fierce and angry. Is was a terrible God, frightening, destroying their enemies, he would say.

Both would point to a canvas strung on a simple piece of wood, up on the wall in the kitchen. Laela had the softest face he'd ever seen, with a smile as warm as the spring sun, and eyes and hair and skin as pale as snow.

Marett was seven when the golden soldiers came from the south. He was seven when he tore the canvas from the wall and hid it under his clothes, the only thing he could save from the burning village. He could only save her, and he knew, in return, she would save him and Is would avenge them all.

 


	2. Chapter 2

At seven, Lorai was sure she would never grow used to the cold.

Wrapped in blankets and sheets she crept from the dormitory after curfew and headed for the kitchens. She would sleep by the wood stove and creep out again before morning and anyone could find her.

She did not know what they might do to her if they did find her there. Here, she had not been harmed yet, but that made her more scared, not less.

The warmth sunk into her bones and she slept so deeply she only woke to the nudge of a gentle hand.

The cook had a broom in her hand and Lorai ducked in fear, but instead of a blow came a hot loaf of bread straight from the oven, dripping with melted butter.

“Eat up, girl,” the woman growled as all Ishemish did, “They will be cutting you today.”

She did not know what that meant, but she ate faster.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Does it still hurt?” The older girl asked when Kael shifted and winced, the bandages between his legs pulling tight. He shook his head, lying.

He'd been given burning drinks to get through the cutting, but they no longer had any effect beyond making him nauseous.

The pain was seeping back into his body like the warmth through the back wall of his family's home. His eyes and throat burned when he thought about it. Did they miss him, or had they already replaced him with a better child?

Kael was only seven and did not know much about the world, but he knew he had earned them a lot of money, enough to buy several new children, for sure.

“Don't cry or you'll mess it up,” Lorai chided, holding the polished copper up for him to look. She had painted his eyes and lips, just like how princes and princesses in storybooks looked. “My prince,” she giggled. He smiled.

If his parents could get a new child, maybe he could get a new family here instead. He did not know much about the world.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Medin was crying. Mother had gotten angry again. Another bruise, another scraped knee, another ruined dress, splinters of a wooden sword stuck in skin.

“Why does this always happen?” She ranted, the only time she had for him. “A Queen has soldiers to do her bidding. She does not need to learn to fight on her own.”

It wasn't right. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Mother left in a huff, winded and with a tingling hand, that too was Medin's fault. Seven was not yet too old for a crown princess to be smacked.

A man approached across the courtyard. A bard who had arrived at court some nights before, a strange man with a high voice. The bard bowed. Medin sniffled. The castle gates closed below them with a loud rumble.

“Did my prince hear that? There must be a great dragon, roaring in the treasury!” The bard exclaimed in that silly way some adults always spoke to children, no matter the child's age or mood.

“That's only the gate. And I can't be a prince. I'm a girl.” Medin had spat angrily. He had already been punished once today, and was in no mood to anger the Queen further.

“Are you sure? Well, I would have you know that there are girl princes and boy princesses, and everything in between. Now, shall I tell you about the dragon, my prince?”

Wide-eyed, Medin listened.

 


	5. Chapter 5

The wind was strong in her face, beating her flowing locks back as the girl leaned over the railing of the crow's nest, watching as their ship rapidly approached the Jaws in the distance. The skies were clear ahead of them, with merely a few darkened clouds to their south. They would make port in Exile before nightfall. A seagull flew by and she waved.

“Ryca, come down here! It's time for your lessons,” Her mother shouted from below.

“Aye aye, captain!” Ryca called back and jumped over the railing, scaling the ropes down. At seven she was as nimble a climber as the most experienced sailors on the ship. She landed lightly on bare feet onto the sunwarmed deck and embraced her mother, getting her dark hair ruffled in return.

“There are some clouds to the south, but they shouldn't catch up to us!” She quipped her report with full seriousness.

Her mother looked up at the sky briefly before turning back to her with a faint smile. “They shouldn't,” she agreed. “Your father is in the cabin. Your lesson today is the history of Dim.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

The world was so loud and angry and jagged. It made Aderia angry, too. Angry and sharp. Children screamed and played and shoved each other violently around her. It was a haze of noise and motion too blinding to follow. Her skin itched and she wandered, trying to find a quiet, still spot. Aderia was seven, and she was afraid of the world.

She came around the corner and came upon a thin, tall boy she'd seen around now and then. He was surrounded by older kids, cowering as they hailed awful, forbidden words at him, clawing at his hair and clothes like fierce winds.

Aderia let out a roar and ran at them, her stubby arms wheeling around like the arms of a windmill as she frightened the older children away. She was growling and snarling like rabid, and the boy looked frightened. Embarrassed and suddenly shy, she hid her face with her hair, waving timidly.

“H-hi. I'm Eryc.” The boy mumbled back.

Aderia tried to say her own name. It came out a ragged croak. She blushed deeply, gesturing to her scarred throat. But he didn't look disgusted or run away. He took her hand, and tugged her along to the library.

 


	7. Chapter 7

“Thank you for looking after your little sister today,” His father yelled across the yard. His hearing was getting worse and worse, from the pressure in the mines and the loud noises of tools against rocks and metals. “I know it's hard on you when your mother is like this.”

Domra was seven, and when his father was away at work, and his mother sick in bed, barely eating for days, he took care of the farm and of his little sister. The responsibility made him feel very proud, but also very scared, and very tired.

Domra nodded silently and whittled away at the piece of wood. This one would be a rabbit, he had decided, for his little sister. She always picked flowers for him. He would carve something for mother, too. He had asked his little sister to pick her flowers so she might feel better, but his sister only stuck out her tongue at him.

“You should speak to Exor down in the village,” his father still yelled as he sat down right next to Domra. “He carves beautiful things. I am sure he'll teach you.”

Domra nodded. He would speak to the man. Perhaps he could learn something.

 


End file.
